The Keys
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: The great king and queen of Corona always feared for their daughter. And so they cast a spell upon her, so no outsider could ever reach her magic. Sixteen years later, her kidnapper is getting nearer and nearer to unlocking it, one key at a time... Rated T for possible torture, kidnap and emotional abuse. Featuring the Big Four.
1. Prologue: The Spell

Prologue: The Spell

**Um. So. Yeah. This is my newest story. I was watching Tangled today and for some reason, it both disturbs and fascinates me to see Rapunzel with her chains. So I thought why not have this AU? :) this is not the actual story. This is a trip back into the past where you get to see how the spell was cast, how the agreement was made.**

**And Genevieve is Rapunzel's mother's name. **

**Oh, also, this features Hiccup from How to Train Your Dragon and Merida from Brave as well.**

* * *

The first to enter is King Fergus, Queen Elinor and the tiny princess, Merida. Merida has gained her father's red hair, instead of her mother's dark brown; her locks are wild and frizzy, shooting out all over the place like a great flame on top of her head.

She giggles and waves happily, exuberantly, at the couple sitting across from her and Queen Elinor smiles tolerantly at her, shushing her and gently positioning her between herself and the king.

Genevieve glances down at her purple and silver dress, absently brushing away the wrinkles. Rapunzel waves shyly to Merida.

Merida has no fear and squeezes out from between her parents to approach the young princess. For a moment, Genevieve just watches them, content. Merida leans over and grabs a lock of Rapunzel's hair, examining it in frank admiration.

Rapunzel is doing much the same with Merida's hair, examining the fiery red curls in awe.

There's a soft knock on the door and Genevieve smoothes out her dress again, bidding the person at the door to enter.

In walks a badly shaven man, leading a little brown-haired boy who sees the girls and immediately presses closer to his father.

But as he passes the princesses, it's clear that it's not shyness that has made him do so; Rapunzel shyly waves at him as well and Merida pokes him in the shoulder, asking him his name.

"Girls have cooties!" he retorts, instead of giving an answer and he grips his father's hand tighter, hurrying along behind him.

"If anything, it's the boys that have got the cooties!" Merida argues angrily, her face turning splotchy and pink; it always happened when she got mad.

Elinor's silk green dress ripples as she stands and goes over to them to sort everything out.

There's nothing for a second but the sound of Elinor's voice, soothing both Merida and the young boy, Jack.

Neither one seem to be paying much attention to her, but that could be because the door has just opened for the fourth time and in walks a great mountain of a man with a haystack red beard, leading a slightly smaller woman, who is leading a much, much smaller boy with a mop of auburn hair hanging into his green eyes.

All eyes turn to them.

Rapunzel tilts her head, studying the young boy. She likes him, she decides right then and there. He looks nice.

Stoick, the red-bearded man, deposits the boy down with the other kids and he and his wife, Val, sit on a plump purple couch.

When Merida asks Hiccup his name, Rapunzel expects him to give the answer Jack did, but he surprises her. He goes bright red and whispers out, "Hiccup."

She surveys the little group before turning her attention back to her parents, sitting on one of the couches.

Genevieve, her mom, plays with the hem of her purple dress. She pats down her brown hair nervously, looking beautiful as usual. She stares directly at Fergus and Elinor first. "I know that we have power," she says seriously, "and I know you might expect me to attempt to use this power to start a war if you do not agree to do as I ask, but the first thing you must know is, that is not my intention."

Fergus' eyebrows fly up. He clearly was not expecting that. "Oh. Well, then."

"My intention is only to make sure you all want to do this. If any of you wish to back out now, I will not stop you. I'm sure there are other ways. This one seems the safest."

There is a long, tense silence between the adults.

Finally, Elinor looks down at Merida, who is yelling at Jack. Judging by the way the conversation is going, he seems to have been fascinated by her bright hair and, forgetting his fear of cooties, had yanked it as hard as he could. She's responding him now by hitting him. Elinor gently pulls Merida away from Jack, onto her lap, and begins to soothe her.

Merida finally stops struggling to get away from her mother. As Elinor gathers her in her arms, she looks up at Genevieve seriously. "We'll do it."

A small, grateful smile spreads over Genevieve's face. "Thank you."

Genevieve then turns to the other three. Val stares down at her child for a long second before turning back to Genevieve, a sad smile on her face. "You have offered me what I've been looking for all this time. I feel like the receiver, not the giver."

Merida tumbles out of her mother's arms and clocks Jack on the head, leaving the boy to stumble around drunkenly for a second, fingering a large bump.

Jack immediately turns back to take her on before his father grabs his arm. "Play nice," he scowls. These are the first words he has spoken since he's entered the room. He lets Jack go again and he and Merida begin fighting again, though Genevieve takes her attention off them.

Mr. Overland drums his fingers on his knees. "I will do it."

Genevieve took a slow, deep breath. "I want you all to remember some very important things today, before this happens. This will not protect your child indefinitely. Nothing can do that. They can still get hurt."

The door opens again. The old woman enters. She walks with a hunched back. The whole room seems to draw its breath as she walks in, her cloak rippling about her ankles. Her hood covers her face, but when she slowly lowers the hood, Genevieve sees she has curly white hair. Her face is old and wrinkled; she gazes upon Genevieve's youth with ill-disguised jealousy.

"Have you all agreed?" her voice is sharp as broken glass, her eyes glinting with the thought of the blood it spilled. "All of you?"

Every single adult in the room nods.

"Good." the old woman sighs. "I do so hate to have whiners complaining about the irreversible spell that's been done." she flexes her fingers slightly, a smile starting to grow on her wrinkled face, stretching her chalk-white cheeks. "Have them join hands."

Elinor slides off the couch onto her knees, gently coaching them on what to do; there's a slight pause in which she has to be stopped from putting Jack beside Merida, because Merida looks ready to crush his fingers and he looks ready to yell about cooties again. She places him on the end, next to Hiccup and, one by one, they all clasp hands.

"_Protection, come now,_

_Lay yourself on these children standing here,_

_Let the keys lie,_

_Let them have no fear._

_Let them be ordinary, but different,_

_And let them never suspect or see,_

_Let them grow as ordinary youngsters,_

_Let them be the keys."_

The old woman's voice rings through the room, sharper than a gust of wind in the wintertime.

She curls and flexes her fingers, letting a strange, misty haze shower the young children standing before her. They reach up to touch the pretty lights, fascinated, but Genevieve gently puts their arms back down by their sides. There could be no interfering with the magic in this spell.

The old woman slowly draws her hood up again, hiding her hideous face and thick white hair. "Good day."

And with that, she departs from the room.

And they all release a breath they hadn't known they'd been holding. Their children were safe now, but dangerous.

Because they had become Keys.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

**Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Not very good, I don't care anymore. **

* * *

Rapunzel didn't offer the redheaded princess any help when Gothel pushed her in. Nor did she reach out a hand to help her when she stumbled. She simply kept her eyes on the ground, thinking the princess should learn to stick up for herself around here and quickly. She bet the princess wouldn't know how – she had had people defending her all her life. She probably didn't know what it meant, to try and stick up for herself.

"Don't ye touch meh!" the princess cried angrily, unknowingly surprising Rapunzel, whose eyebrows flew up higher on her forehead. She hadn't quite expected that.

Gothel smiled coldly at her. "Get used to being touched, sweetheart," she said. "Because once you have been used, you're useless to me."

And then the door slammed, a blast of cold air hitting Rapunzel as it did. She sucked in a breath and studied the ground, softening slightly towards the other girl in the cell with her; they were stuck together now, weren't they?

She trusted Gothel's magic to have fooled the princess, but the girl was not one to take this lying down. She stood from the spot where she had been pushed and began frantically pacing it. She looked over at Rapunzel only once, taking in the sad scene of the broken girl and then she resumed her pacing, brushing her hair back with her fingers. "Alright," she said quietly, plopping down on the floor again, "any ideas?"

Rapunzel shrank away from her slightly; why was this girl even talking to her? She must want something, of course she did; they all did. Gothel had brought in many girls before and all of them had been utterly convinced that they were not going to stay in this cell for long and that their daddy would come and get them.

Rapunzel had once been hopeful by nature and once, she might've expected the same thing. But she had nobody. Nobody outside this tower knew who she was; they didn't even know she existed. She was insignificant. Nobody would notice if Gothel one day snapped.

But Gothel was patient. Unlike most of the despicable villains Rapunzel had met, Gothel was calm and good at keeping her temper. She didn't give in easily to taunts or threats; she stood strong, got on people's good side…and then stabbed them in the back.

Rapunzel had watched her do it a hundred times.

The princess frowned and waved a hand in front of Rapunzel's face. "Are yah there, girl?"

"Wh-what?" Rapunzel flinched back from the girl's pale hand and looked the redhead up and down, not sure what to say or do. "I…yes, I'm here." She nodded her head slowly, unsure what else to say.

"Right," the princess replied with a nod. "Now, is the door the only exit?"

"You can't escape," Rapunzel told her flatly. "I've been here all my life and I've never found a single place."

"Right," the princess repeated, completely disregarding Rapunzel's words. "We'll find a way." She glanced around the cell for a second, noting the tiny, barred window.

"That's too small to climb out of," Rapunzel explained, without waiting to hear what the princess would say.

"If I had my bow, we could do something," the redhead sighed.

Rapunzel glanced at her, surprised. Most princesses were not allowed to have weapons.

The girl folded her arms and tilted her head back up at the window, looking out into the daylight.

Rapunzel left her to her thinking, looking back around the grim, dirty cell. It'd be only a matter of time before the Scottish redhead conceded defeat.

* * *

Jack Frost had, understandably, been having a very trying day. Firstly, he had abandoned his steadily melting lake for the cooler side of the world, where he knew winter was begging to be spread.

He had reached his destination and reveled in the coolness for a few moments before hearing a voice speaking from out of the shadows.

Then, the voice just turned out to be the Easter Bunny, no harm done – although Jack could tell he was still angry about that blizzard on Easter Sunday.

Then, a couple of Santa Claus' yetis had very rudely shoved him in a sack without asking him permission or whether or not he was okay with some mild manhandling.

As he struggled in the sack, he heard the strange whooshing sound he heard whenever he looked up at the sky and saw Santa Claus magically appearing out of nowhere into the sky. Jack had always brushed it off; the Guardians and their magic were strong.

Now he thought he understood that he was being transported by the same means.

Halfway through, being twirled and hurled from side to side so violently, it was like he was in a dryer, the constant spinning stopped – only to be replaced by loud voices, a rush of them, all talking and yelling at once.

"Mine now—

"You don't understand, Sheila—

"—need him—

"—he's a Guardian—

"—he's a key—

"—you promised—

"—I confess, I normally try—

"Sheila, I'm gonna—

"—don't get it, do you?"

And then he was hurling away again, through different places, because he heard words spoken in a language that was definitely not English.

He was then launched into a place that felt extremely hot, then extremely cold. An agony flowed through him, making him cry out and then he landed somewhere with a thump. It was dark in the bag and he couldn't see exactly where he had landed, but when he tried to crawl out of the bag to take a look, his attempts were met with a swift fist to the head, making black spots appear in his vision.

And then he heard the whooshing sound of the portal again.

No doubt about it, it had been a very trying day.

* * *

The gods hated him. That was Hiccup's very decision when the kindly old woman who had been living on Berk for as long as he could remember had politely invited him to her house. He couldn't remember her ever displaying a particular interest in him before, but her invitation didn't seem odd; she was lonely often, for she lived all alone outside of the village. The only person she really lived nearby was Mildew and who could call him company?

They sat outside for a long while and then she'd invited him in.

Hiccup's decision was sealed when the doors in her house slammed shut just after he walked in and she dropped the 'sweet grandmother' air. She'd grabbed his arm, her fingers freezing to the touch and his memories of her always hovering on the fringes of the village vanished like that.

She pulled her cloak off its hook by the door and wrapped it around herself one-handedly, easily keeping her grip on the young Viking as well, although he struggled as hard as he could.

"Hush," she scolded sternly when he tried to yank free again, calling out for help. "You'll strain your throat."

"Let me go!" Hiccup yelled forcefully, trying to sound at least a little bit threatening. Gobber was absolutely right, he was hopeless at it.

"I'm not out to hurt you, runt." wheezed the old woman softly, like she was trying to coax him. "Besides, don't waste your breath. The people outside can't hear you. No matter how loudly you scream, these walls are sound-proof."

She dragged him over to one of the supposedly sound-proof walls and shoved him ahead of her, so he was nose-to-nose with the wall…and then...and then...

_Okay, it's official. The gods hate me so much, they're turning me crazy._


End file.
